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She whispers at night about lonely matters until she sleeps and I drift away, until morning comes and she is gone never having said goodbye no chance for me to ask why and the lonely matters have become mine
“Lonely Matters”
16 Wednesday Jan 2013
Posted in POETRY
Lonely matters strike her most when the
Sun comes up.
No warmth,
Or stiffy
To bid her “good, morning
My lovely”.
That’s sweet, but do you mean stiffy, like I think you mean? lol
Ha!
Probably trust you instincts.
lol ok
Very lovely.
Thank you so much.
“Lonely Matters”. Now there’s a delicious term. Very evocative.
Thank you, evocative is a great word for it, captures the intention, thanks very much :)
A lovely poem again Sage – and thank you so much for all your support and ‘likes’ on my blog – here’s a thank you for ALL of them :)
You’re welcome, and thank you as well :)